ATAK October 28th
by alleymap
Summary: Set in the ATAK AU. Its a rainy October night, and for once James Bond is at home. He's looking for some quiet in which to reflect in, but is rudely interrupted.


Set in the ATAK AU created by alleymap. Owning no characters you recognise.  
  
The Kain family are my creation, including David Kain 009, Emma Kain his wife, and Ashleigh their daughter (and the OFC in ATAK).  
  
Set roughly 25 years before the events of ATAK.

* * *

James Bond threw the empty packet of cigarettes onto the floor. It was the only blemish in the other wise perfectly tidy flat. May, his extraordinarily organised Scottish housekeeper kept the place in absolute pristine condition, at least until he decided to grace it with his presence.  
  
He couldn't find his lighter. He leant over, reaching for his jacket, and struggled with the inside pocket. No, it wasn't there. He stood, cigarette hanging from his lower lip, and wondered where he could find another one.  
  
He rummaged through the drawers in the kitchen, barely noticing the spotless cutlery, the unused candlesticks, the full box of matches... The matches. He grabbed the small box, and struck one alight.  
  
He had to quit smoking, and soon. His recent physical assessment had shown a dramatic decrease in his performance. The doctor, staring over the top of her horn rimmed glasses had blamed his dependence on the small white nicotine sticks, and a too frequent penchant for vodka martinis. He had been listening to her, but there had been a hint of mischief in those brilliant blue eyes, and she had had very shapely ankles, and well, he supposed he had proved that some elements of his physical performance were still up to standards.  
  
Drawing deeply, letting the blessed nicotine creep into his lungs he sprawled on the sofa once more. It was the closest he would come to relaxing tonight. If he was truly lucky, there was a chance he might fall asleep.  
  
The banging surprised him, and for a moment, he couldn't work out where it was coming from. Sitting up, he glanced around the room with bleary eyes.  
  
It didn't stop. It appeared to be coming from the hallway. He stood, wondering what on earth it was.  
  
The door.  
  
Someone was banging on the door.  
  
He frowned.  
  
The door was on the chain, he opened it a fraction, and peered through the gap.  
  
Thankfully he wasn't too tired, and so when he saw the bottle of champagne moving with some speed towards his face, his reactions did kick in and he pulled back in time.  
  
He stared in confusion at the hand sticking through his door, brandishing champagne.  
  
'James?' a voice slurred. 'James, open up. S'me.'  
  
The voice was familiar. In any other circumstance, he would have been sure of the owner, but he had never heard it like this before.  
  
'James!'  
  
'David?' He squinted at the hand.  
  
'S'me! David.' The voice appeared to be ignoring him, or at least communicating on another plane from the one James currently occupied.  
  
Slowly Bond removed the chain and opened the door.  
  
It was indeed David Kain. The man that James had once known in a professional capacity as 009. They were still 00 agents, but they had somehow blurred the working relationship and become friends.  
  
His thick dark hair was dishevelled, the usually neat style flopping over his brow, there was a faint red flush to his cheeks, his dark brown eyes were unfocused, and he was sporting a rather broad grin. He stumbled forward, pushing the bottle towards James.  
  
'Need glasses. Need a toast.'  
  
'A toast?' Bond was now convinced that he was dreaming. 'David?'  
  
David ignored him, stumbling towards the kitchen at the back of the apartment.  
  
'Help yourself,' James murmured sarcastically, still holding the door wide open.  
  
There was the tinkle of broken glass, and a muttered 'bugger.' James shut the door with a martyred sigh.  
  
He got half way half across the room, and had just managed to catch a glimpse of David attempting to pick the pieces of the shattered wine glass up without either falling over or cutting himself when there was another series of loud bangs on the front door.  
  
Torn between the two for a moment, James mentally debated the options. There was a pained curse from the kitchen as David obviously sliced his hand open, or managed to sever one of his fingers, and that made Bond's mind up. He opened the door.  
  
'Is he here?' Alec Trevelyan panted, leaning heavily against the doorframe.  
  
'Our restrained, sober friend?'  
  
'That's the one. Bastard managed to lock me out. I had to wait for someone to leave before I could get into the building. You really should get your intercom fixed.'  
  
His grey green eyes fell onto the white phone by the door, hanging off the hook.  
  
'I take it you weren't expecting anyone?'  
  
'No,' Bond muttered gruffly, resentful of the intrusion.  
  
Alec raised an eyebrow. 'Where is he?'  
  
'Hacking himself to pieces in the kitchen. Said something about glasses.'  
  
'Have you heard?' Alec said with a trace of a smile.  
  
'Heard what?' Bond asked suspiciously. Alec, while concerned about his friend, seemed to be quite cheerful. His sleek blond hair was brushed back from his face as usual, his eyes were glittering, and he didn't seem particularly worried about his usually reserved friend's extremely drunken state.  
  
David burst into the living room from the kitchen, his long black overcoat half removed, and a white tea towel wrapped around his left hand. He was still waving the bottle of champagne around, but he had managed to get half the gold foil off the top.  
  
'I'm a father!' he announced with the sort of pride that only first time fathers could achieve.  
  
He waited for some kind of response. James and Alec looked at each other.  
  
'Emma gave birth four hours ago,' Alec explained. 'A week early.'  
  
'Girl,' David beamed. '5lb 2 ounces.'  
  
James looked at Alec who shrugged. 'Congratulations. Is that - good?' he asked tentatively.  
  
'Apparently so,' Alec whispered as David struggled to uncork the bottle.  
  
There was a loud 'pop' followed close by a crack as the champagne cork hit the lamp on the other side of the room. The lamp hit the floor seconds later. David looked on in surprise as the champagne, shaken by its dash across London poured onto the carpet.  
  
Alec shot into the kitchen and returned with three glasses a moment later. 'Here,' he said, thrusting the flute under the fountain of champagne.  
  
'To my beautiful, beautiful wife Emma, and my absolutely wonderful new daughter...' David, half way through raising his glass suddenly frowned. 'I've forgotten her name.'  
  
He collapsed onto the sofa, and Alec and James watched as the blood slowly drained from his face. 'I'm a father,' he murmured. 'A father. And I can't even remember her name.'  
  
'Well, that's a wonderful start to your parenting career,' James snarled. Leaning over he picked up the empty cigarette packet, and scowled as he realised it was indeed empty. 'Where the hell did you find him?' he asked Alec.  
  
'He called me from a telephone box to tell me. I had to pull a few strings at the office so they would trace him for me. I found him wandering through Leicester Square attempting to announce his good news to a group of Japanese tourists. Who clearly didn't understand a word he was saying. Even when he tried in Japanese.'  
  
'That still doesn't explain why you're in my flat at 11pm.'  
  
'He's still able to remember that you live round here. He was determined to come and tell you himself. I have to admit, I'm finding this all rather amusing.'  
  
'For you perhaps.' James scowled.  
  
Alec looked surprised somewhat, but decided to ignore his friend's decidedly grumpy attitude. He took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, and handed one to James. James thawed slightly as a lighter followed a moment later. They settled on the other sofa, and stared in glazed wonder at their friend.  
  
'Have you ever seen him like this before?' Alec asked.  
  
'No.'  
  
'It's certainly strange. I always thought David was rather sensible.'  
  
'He is. Usually.'  
  
David either was ignoring them, or was too focused on rummaging through his pockets to pay attention.  
  
'Here!' he announced triumphantly. He waved a small square of paper. James took it from him before he poked his eye out with a sharp corner. It was a Polaroid photo, showing the familiar figure of Emma Kain holding what looked like a white bundle. James stared at it for a moment and then passed it to Alec.  
  
'And this one,' David passed them another one. James felt a stir of horror at the thought there might be more, but David stopped rummaging, and was waiting expectantly.  
  
This was more revealing. James had never really seen a newborn baby before, not even a picture of one. She was surrounded by a white swathe of blanket, and she was rather pink. Yes, pink was the best word. Her head was rather misshapen too. He wondered if that was normal. She also had the remains of some kind of ... gunk attached to her skin. James suppressed a shudder. A shock of dark hair covered her head, her eyes were closed, but long eyelashes swept the top of her chubby cheeks, she had a snubbed nose and a full pink rosebud pout. Underneath in David's spiky handwriting he had written 'Ashleigh, one hour old.'  
  
'Ashleigh Kain,' he murmured as he passed it to Alec, who didn't seem overwhelmed by it.  
  
'That's it!' David brightened up. 'Ashleigh. Emma chose it. Nice name. My little Ashleigh. She's beautiful, and so tiny. Little fingernails, so small... There was something I was meant to ask you, James, two things, but I can't remember...'  
  
His voice trailed off, and with the unrivalled elegance of the decidedly drunk he tilted backwards and passed out, the combination of celebratory alcohol, and the overwhelming emotions of the day finally catching up with him. James took the photos, and tucked them into his hand.  
  
'Have you a blanket?' Alec asked.  
  
'A blanket?'  
  
'To cover him. Can't let him catch his death of cold. He has a family to support now.'  
  
'Try in the bedroom. The wardrobe. I think May has put some in there.' James shrugged.  
  
Alec returned a moment later with a thick grey blanket. He covered David's sleeping form with it. As the blanket touched him, David stirred and the pictures dropped to the floor. Alec picked them up.  
  
'Sweet, I suppose,' he murmured. 'I thought babies were bald.'  
  
'That one isn't.'  
  
'We're getting old, James, old boy,' Alec mocked as he walked across the room.  
  
'Suppose so. Dear god. Do you realise that when she...' he gestured impatiently to the photo, 'is 18, it'll almost be the end of the century?'  
  
'Don't,' Alec shivered. 'I'm too young to be thinking about my mortality.'  
  
He found the bag that David had been carrying. As he picked it up there was a satisfying 'clink' of glass on glass. 'Shall we have a drink?' he asked.  
  
'Wet the new baby's head and all that?' a ghost of a smile appeared on James's face.  
  
'Sounds like a plan,' a minute later, Alec returned with two glasses filled with ice and a clear liquid.  
  
'To the new baby,' James raised his glass.  
  
'To Ashleigh,' Alec clinked his against the other. 'I'll never understand it.'  
  
'David?'  
  
'David. How he does it. He has a wife, and now a daughter. And yet he does what he does. An agent shouldn't be tied down, for god's sake. You can't do your work if you're too busy worrying if you're going to see your family again. No, an agent should be alone.'  
  
'Like me,' James said darkly, before knocking back the remainder of his vodka in a single swallow.  
  
They were sitting in darkness, but Alec saw the look that flickered across James's face. 'Damn,' he muttered. 'Didn't mean it like that.'  
  
'Don't bother, Alec. I know exactly what you meant. Lucky for me I am alone.'  
  
'James...'  
  
'Forget it, Alec.'  
  
They sat in silence for a while. The car headlights from outside was the only light source. David snored gently on the other side of the room.  
  
'You miss her?' Alec finally ventured.  
  
'Every goddamn day.' Bond paused, and then finally, found the words he wanted to say. 'I thought it would get easier, that time would heal, but it's been nearly a year now, and still, I miss her. I miss Tracy.'  
  
Alec sat in silence, letting him speak, letting him vent in a way he had had never heard before.  
  
No more came.  
  
It seemed that James had said his piece, and he fell into silence.  
  
He would never forget the day he carried her from the sea, how pale she had been, how he had thought she was dead, but she had breathed, and she had looked at him with those beautiful eyes, beautiful eyes set into regal and proud features, and he knew, he knew at that moment he had found the woman he could love. She had been so strong, so full of life, and when her father had ventured the idea of marriage he had been tempted.  
  
But in the end they had married for love.  
  
Lace. She had worn white lace, covering her slender arms. Arms that had wrapped around his neck, pulling him to her so she could kiss him until he was dizzy and they had been so full of hope.  
  
They had all the time in the world.  
  
They had inscribed those words onto her gravestone. He had murmured those words to her as he had held her cooling body in his arms, her blood soaking him, those bright eyes closed forever now, those regal features now a death mask.  
  
Shot in revenge. Shot as they left to celebrate their marriage. Shot in her wedding dress. White lace soaked brilliant red by the blood.  
  
He had been alone from that moment on.  
  
Was he better off for it? He didn't know, but he knew that the only thing he could do was wake up every morning and fight to save the world.  
  
Or pour vodka martinis down his throat on a regular basis.  
  
The two weren't necessarily separate.  
  
'Better to be alone,' he finally snarled.  
  
Alec tilted the glass and let the burning liquid scorch his throat. There was a strange, distant look in his eyes, the distant look of a man considering his own personal demons. 'Always.'  
  
'But if you're alone, what on earth do you fight for?'  
  
David stirred beneath the blanket, and sat up, one hand pressed against his head. Hiss voice was determinedly more sober than it had been several hours before.  
  
'Go back to sleep,' James ordered.  
  
'No. Do you know why I fight? Do you know why I wake up every morning and put my life on the line? I do it so my child, my daughter will have a safe place to grow up in, so that my wife doesn't need to fear for her life...' He stifled a yawn. 'It gives me a reason to fight, it gives me a reason to lay down my life.'  
  
'How extraordinarily noble of you,' James sneered.  
  
David shrugged, then winced as the sudden gesture intensified the pounding in his head. 'And what do you fight for? What cause do you claim to champion? What makes you jump onto your white horse and ride to victory?'  
  
James squinted into his nearly empty glass. 'For England,' he hollowly toasted.  
  
'For England,' Alec echoed. It was as good a sentiment as any.  
  
David frowned, and then started to pull his overcoat on. 'Right. Fine, well, I'll leave you two here to sit in the dark and drink your self to an unconscious stupor in almost complete silence, I am going to go and see my new family.'  
  
'It's five am,' James pointed out.  
  
'I'll beat the traffic.' He stumbled to his feet. 'I think my head is going to explode.'  
  
'Give my regards to the Japanese tourists,' Alec lifted his glass in an ironic salute.  
  
'What?' David turned at the door, confused.  
  
'Never mind.'  
  
The door slammed viciously, making James jump a fraction. He coughed to disguise the sudden action, but Alec saw the colour rise in his friend's cheeks.  
  
'What does David know, anyway?' he suddenly snarled.  
  
The outburst was uncharacteristic of Alec, and James stared in disbelief. 'More than us perhaps,' he muttered gloomily.  
  
'What do you mean?'  
  
'Well, what the hell do we know? Do we know what its like to come home to the same woman every night, what it's like to hold your new child in your arms?'  
  
'Who says I would want to?' Alec snapped, reaching for the vodka bottle.  
  
'Not I,' Bond shook his head. 'But David knows, and he'll always have that. Always have Emma, always have his daughter. Maybe he's right, maybe he does have the right reason for doing this godforsaken job.'  
  
'I do this job because I'm good at it,' Alec hissed. 'And what else do I have?'  
  
'No more than I.'  
  
'Well, this is a lovely depressing conversation to have first thing in the morning,' Alec finally announced into the silence. 'We really must do this more often.'  
  
'Oh no, this is a special occasion, dear boy,' James mocked.  
  
The silence loomed again, but to James's surprise, Alec spoke before it could settle.  
  
'How long do you think you could do this for?' he asked, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper.  
  
'What?'  
  
'This,' the blond man gestured impatiently. 'Take orders, obey orders, fight for what you're told is right.'  
  
What you're told is right. The words somehow didn't ring true, but Bond was too tired to truly noticed. 'Until it kills me.'  
  
'I thought as much.' Alec nodded slowly.  
  
'And you?'  
  
The pause was a fraction too long. 'Until it kills me,' he muttered.  
  
Bond glanced at his friend, and felt a cold shiver run down his spine. As agent he didn't believe in superstition, but why did he suddenly feel like a premonition had been spoken?  
  
Would Alec be the first of them to die? Would the handsome, cool agent be the first to receive their plaque of honour?  
  
Bond's mouth was suddenly dry, and the vodka wasn't helping.  
  
'We all have to do what's right,' Alec murmured, looking straight ahead, refusing to meet Bond's eyes. 'We have to do what we believe in. And if that means dying, then so be it,' he concluded bleakly.  
  
With an abrupt clink, Alec dropped his glass on the table. There was a look on his face that Bond had never seen before.  
  
It was dark, determined and menacing.  
  
It wasn't his friend's face; it was as if there was another man standing where Alec was now.  
  
And it unnerved Bond.  
  
And then Alec blinked, and the look was gone, it was merely Alec standing in his room, glass in hand.  
  
'David forgot these,' he said softly holding out the Polaroids. He glanced down at them, looking at those soft, sleepy eyes, and the thick hair. He shrugged. What sort of effect could something so small have on his life? He was pleased for David, but he had no real interest in the child.  
  
Did he ever want what David had? A wife? Children? He wasn't sure. It seemed impossible. He had never met a woman who had in some small way challenged him enough to make him want to continue the chase. He liked Emma Kain, liked her vivacity, her smile, and her sheer happiness at being alive. She complimented David's quiet nature, and while they were happy, he didn't know if he would want someone that dependant on him.  
  
And if he did meet the right woman, and he lost her, as James had lost Tracy, could he cope with that?  
  
No. He would remain alone. It was simpler in the end.  
  
He put the pictures down in front of James. 'Good night, James.'  
  
'You mean 'good morning'.'  
  
Alec checked his watch. 'Indeed.'  
  
As the door clicked quietly shut behind Alec, James stared at it.  
  
Alone once more.  
  
For once, the feeling wasn't entirely welcome.  
  
Laying back on the sofa, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.  
  
Somehow he knew that from that day on things would be different.  
  
Something had changed.  
  
Fin. 


End file.
